


It's In the Vodka Baby

by Stockholmsyndrom



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Canon Het Relationship, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Condoms, Cunnilingus, Hand Jobs, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Shameless Smut, Smut, Submissive Steve (very minor), Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, literally no plot whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1496554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stockholmsyndrom/pseuds/Stockholmsyndrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not the first time Natasha and Bucky invite someone into their bed for a night of fun. But it's Steve's first time with another man.</p><p>Or</p><p>How Nat and Bucky get Steve drunk, Steve gets some, and in the end Tony gets jealous. Kinda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's In the Vodka Baby

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, darling, if you're reading this: I am so sorry, I couldn't sleep until this was posted. I love you.
> 
> Random team of Avengers randomly consists of: Cap, Iron Man, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver, Hawkeye, Falcon, Hulk/Bruce, Thor and Spider Man. Bucky is just their mascot. Or something. Nobody knows. He is probably there for the good coffee. And Nat. And glaring at Stark because nobody touches Steve. Ever.
> 
> Contains very slight preslash Steve/Tony. Barely even there. If I don't count the meta I almost wrote on this while writing it. Ugh.
> 
> Also: My longest and smuttiest fic here yet. Who knew?

The first time Steve ever has sex with another man, it’s with Bucky. It’s not with his former childhood friend Bucky, back when they were nothing but childhood dreams and hopes wrapped up in young skin and adorned with shining eyes. But neither is it with the Winter Soldier with his cold arm wrapping around Steve’s body, embracing him and transporting him into a whole new world, like the ice once had.  
No, the first time Steve let’s another man touch him, it is James Buchanan Barnes, a man between two lives he remembers, two masks neither of which quite fits anymore.

Steve had been grabbing Bucky’s arm repeatedly, and yet always had come up empty handed and alone, engulfed in ice and water, and there was a train; no a plane, and he was falling and screaming, but the oceans above him swallowed his every sound.

When Steve finally wakes from his nightmare he showers for what seemed like an eternity, watching the cold sweat being flushed down the drain. Afterwards he wanders the halls of the Avengers Tower, not able to decide where to go. He passes by the gym and training grounds, ignores the build in cinema and doesn’t quite find it in him to wander into Tony’s workshop. Although the tension between them had mostly been resolved, he doesn’t want to bother him.

That’s how he ends up in the kitchen, stumbling right into what seemed to be a deep midnight conversation between Natasha and Bucky. She is seated on the counter, her legs crossed, nursing a glass of something clear between her fingers. Bucky is in front of the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of vodka and pouring it into his own glass.  
He cannot understand how he ever got Bucky to stay with the Avengers, much less why they had agreed to letting him stay. He hadn’t even joined the team; he just sort of lived here now.  
Neither Tasha nor Bucky look at him when they greet him, practically ruining his chance for a silent retreat. Escape is too big of a word for this situation.

Natasha waves him over, offering him her vodka.  
“I can’t really get drunk,” Steve reminds her with a half smile.  
Bucky and Natasha exchange a look. Steve has noticed those small, private smiles they sometimes give each other. He suspects there was more to the ghost story Natasha originally had told him about the Winter Soldier when they had fist encountered him. But he never said anything, believing that their shared history is none of his business. He will not press the matter.  
“Bullshit,” Bucky grunts and pours Steve his own glass, placing it firmly on the kitchen table.

Steve almost winces at the sharp noise the glass makes on the fine surface. He remembers Tony chased down this particular wood for months, nearly driving everyone crazy with his determination.  
“Drink.”  
“You haven’t lived until you have tried our vodka,” Natasha looks at him, a private smile tugging on her lips.  
“I promise you, no super soldier serum will withstand it.”  
Steve isn’t sure what that is supposed to mean, but it cannot be good. Surely they wouldn’t try to poison him, but he wouldn’t bet on it.

Eventually he gives in and raises the glass to his lips. The alcohol bites and claws its way down his throat. It has been a long time since he had last drunk something this strong.  
Bucky bites down a laugh at the sight and Steve has a hard time not to comment on that. The last time he got drunk was with his friend as well. And now here he is, gulping down vodka of uncertain origin with Natasha and Bucky, already feeling the warmth in his stomach spreading, despite his metabolism.

It isn’t long before he finds himself sharing stories from their childhood, Natasha listening to his recounts of youthful stupidity, while Bucky throws in a snarky comment here or there.  
The three of them finish almost two bottles of the mysterious liquor and after the first one even Natasha is showing signs of drunkenness. She is smiling more openly, giggling at particularly funny or stupid stories and, Steve cannot help but observe even through the haze, allowing Bucky closer into her personal space.  
She doesn’t put up her barrier when he leans in, doesn’t look away when his eyes search for hers and doesn’t tense up when he casually touches her.  
Steve isn’t blind. He knows that there is something going on between those two. Everyone knows that. What Steve doesn’t know is how much had been going on before Bucky remembered his life before being the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t ask them about it, knowing all too well that some things are better not dragged out into cold daylight.

“You are such a grandfather,” Natasha teases as Bucky rises from the wooden chair he had been sitting on for the last hour or so.  
Steve smiles. He can’t help it. The way Bucky is rubbing his back and glaring at a delighted Natasha is almost comical.  
“Shut up, Natalia,” he grumbles and grabs his glass.  
“I remember you owing me a back rub. So it’s your fault. My room has a couch and a code to turn off that god forsaken Big Brother creep. Let’s move there.”  
Jarvis huffs indignantly at Bucky’s comment but doesn’t seem to waste a reply on him.

Steve is ready to go back to his room, or maybe even hit the gym after all, when Natasha takes his hand and tugs, getting him into a standing position.  
“You’re coming with us.”  
She is gorgeous, even clad in baggy sweatpants and a  
tank top, bare foot on Tony’s marble tiles.  
He doesn’t even realise the unexpected effect the alcohol has had on him, until they are in Bucky’s room and he is seriously questioning his life choices.  
How else would he let himself be dragged into a room with a kissing couple, one that’s probably been together for longer than any of them is aware.

He smiles, remembering the hopeless crush he had nursed when they were younger. Bucky had been his everything; his best friend, his brother, his father figure and, after his mother had died, his whole family.  
He had always looked out for him, always there to help, to teach, to share happiness and sadness.  
Seeing him happy with Natasha makes Steve more than happy, he is grateful to have someone who loves and values his friend just as much as he does.

Which is exactly why he should leave now.  
They are all drunk and Tasha and Bucky clearly need some alone time. He will not be here to be kicked out.  
Rising up from the edge of the bed they had all occupied together, Steve releases a yelp, when there is a grip on his wrist, tugging him back down hard.

And suddenly Natasha’s lips are on his, pressing softly against him, her hands holding his face, not allowing him to move an inch.  
Her breath tastes bittersweet, the tang of vodka still clearly there.  
Steve couldn’t have cared less. His eyes almost immediately fall shut, his whole posture relaxing into her, leaning against her, giving in.  
She parts her lips and then her tongue is in his mouth, wiping away what little reservations he still had.  
Somewhere in the back of his head he remembers that Bucky is still in the room, watching them; watching Steve kiss his girl right in front of him.  
Something clicks. And then he breaks apart. As much as he enjoys kissing Natasha, he cannot let the unexpected drunkenness take over.  
Natasha doesn’t seem to be bothered by Bucky’s presence. Her face lights up and a smile spreads across her features.

Steve blinks, trying to come up with an excuse to just up and leave the situation, to not have to deal with this right now. That is, unless Bucky doesn’t decide to straight out punch him in the face right then and there.  
Before he can take any action though, his chin is engulfed in a cold metal grip, and another set of lips presses against his.  
The light scratching of Bucky’s stubble against his skin surprises Steve, rendering him completely speechless.  
If Natasha’s kiss had been warm, Bucky’s is hot. His tongue is burning its way into Steve, scorching his flesh and almost ripping him apart. It’s not that Bucky is in any way hard or violent, but the feel of his still cool hand now sliding to the back of Steve’s neck is driving him insane.

Just a minute ago he had been ready to flee from the very room, leave the two to explore each other in the dark of the night.  
And now here he is, practically hopping onto the examination desk himself, stifling a shaky groan underneath his best friends’ playful fingers.  
Natasha’s hands slip underneath the white cotton of his t-shirt, roaming over his skin while she pressed her soft warm breasts against his back.

“You have no idea how hot you guys are,” she whispers against his ear, the tip of her tongue wet against his skin.  
Steve opens his eyes again, looking up into Bucky’s face. The darkness is hiding his expression, but it can do nothing to shield him from the burning in Bucky’s eyes.  
With a small smirk Bucky grabs a hold of Steve’s hair and lightly tugs on it, stretching his neck.  
“I can imagine,” he chuckles and then joins Natasha, who already started nibbling at the exposed skin.  
Steve’s world almost collapses. The sensation of these two hot mouths kissing and sucking on him is almost enough to topple him over. His hands immediately grab Bucky’s shoulders, trying to get a hold on something that will keep him from falling.

Natasha chuckles, her laughter bubbly and light against his skin, as one of her hands strokes over his abdomen, a finger lightly tracing his navel.  
He tries not to become a passive object to be acted upon, even if he has no idea what to do. His hand finds hers, caressing her soft skin while the other tugs at Bucky’s hair drawing him into another kiss.  
This time he is better prepared. He can actually enjoy the sensation of Bucky’s mouth against his, the rough texture of his tongue on his lips, between them, and then sliding into him.

Natasha kisses a trail up his neck and starts to gently caress his ear, her hot breathing tickling just the right way.  
“I think we can do with fewer clothes, right Captain?” she teases, and Steve can only manage a nod in return.  
He feels both Bucky’s and Tasha’s hands hook underneath the hem of his shirt, gently lifting it off. Their hands brush against each other and the usually so soft material feels coarse against his skin, sliding over his hard nipples, getting a gasp out of him. He lifts his arms for them and can feel their gazes burning into his exposed skin. The t shirt falls to the floor somewhere, neither of them caring where it lands.  
Natasha then turns to look at him, a small smile playing around her lips.  
“How do you feel about getting a bit of a show?” she asks and already is half off the bed, tugging on Bucky’s bionic arm and making sure he climbs off the bed too.  
“Uhm... Yeah?” Steve manages and looks up at them, now sitting cross-legged on the bed.

Natasha nods and Steve can see the question in Bucky’s eyes, even in the dark room.  
Natasha places Bucky’s arm around her waist, the faint moonlight illuminating the movement. They are kissing shamelessly intimate and soon Bucky’s tank top joins Steve’s shirt on the floor. Bucky grabs her hair, pulling her closer with both of his arms, and then a third top lands on the pile at the end of the bed. Natasha’s breasts are laid bare and blood rushes into Steve’s loins at the realisation that she hadn’t been wearing a bra. He had not noticed that.  
Bucky turns Natasha in his arms so that she is facing Steve now. He presses himself against her and pushes down her pants, his hands trailing down her long legs as she steps out of them.  
Steve unconsciously chews at his bottom lip, not able to take his eyes off them, even if everything in him is screaming that this should be all but an uncomfortable, embarrassing situation. He wants to touch, wants to feel their skin underneath his fingers, wants to taste it, kiss her neck, see if Bucky’s arm tastes of iron and steel, wonders what exactly that would even taste like. Surely the metal poles Bucky and him dared each other to lick during the coldest months cannot compare to how this intricate machinery would feel under his tongue, how it would warm up to his touch, vitrified with his saliva.

Both, Natasha and Bucky, shed the remaining clothes during his musings, and now Natasha crawls back onto the bead, coming closer with the effortless grace of a cat that is stalking its prey. Steve tries not to feel like a bird without wings.  
When she reaches him, her hands find his shoulders, and she kisses him again, both of their lips swollen and all the more sensitive to each other now. She presses her naked form against him, and Steve awkwardly uncrosses his legs, allowing her to get closer. His eyes slide towards Bucky, who is still standing at the edge of the bed, watching as Natasha sucks on Steve’s tongue. He quickly closes his eyes, shame and arousal rising up in him, mixing together in a cocktail way too strong, not to intoxicate him.  
Steve raises his hands to her sides, gently holding her as if afraid she would break. Which of course she doesn’t. Steve knows that Natasha is capable of killing him with her ankles if need be, but he still fears that she will slip from his grip if he holds on too hard.  
As if to negate his fears, she chuckles against his mouth and takes his left hand into hers, placing it right on top of her breast.

“You can touch me. Just do it, or James might get bored.”  
Steve breaks the kiss, looking at her for a moment. Her face is encouraging and she pointedly glances towards Bucky and then to him. Letting go of his reservations, Steve dives in to capture her lips again, curling his fingers around her breast. The soft flesh immediately gives in, forming under his grip, her nipple only hardening further when he brushes it.  
Natasha sighs contently into his mouth and then the bed dips behind him. He can feel Bucky scooting closer sitting right behind him and his hands are on Steve’s skin. They roam over his back and shoulders, one hand hot, the other cool again, warming up to his touch with agonising slowness.  
Steve can feel the goose bumps forming, as if his skin was rising to meet Bucky’s touch, welcoming it and screaming for more.  
He can hear him make an appreciative sound, one that he last heard when one of the soldiers had opened up a magazine, presenting him with a bare-breasted dame in suspenders.

Steve almost chuckles at the memory, but the hands travelling the valley of his stomach muscles are too distracting. He gasps when Bucky’s right hand, all hot flesh and skin, reaches up to circle his nipple, just as he was doing to Natasha not too long ago.  
He can feel he lips spreading out in a wide smile against his mouth and a flare of hot embarrassment burns on his cheeks.  
Bucky pinches Steve’s nipple, all the while laying soft kisses against his shoulders and Natasha’s fingers stoke through his hair, making his scalp itch deliciously.  
Never before had Steve known sensations like this and now he cranes his neck, trying to get more of it all.  
He is left clinging to cold air, as Natasha slips out of his hold. Steve opens his eyes, searching for her gaze almost in panic, but her smile and her hands beckon him to follow her, crawling between her legs.

He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, pressing against his boxers and wanting nothing more than friction.  
He tries not to moan too loudly when he gets just that. Who knew that bending down to kiss her neck could make him feel so good?  
Her shoulders feel almost as sweet against his lips as her throat did, but leaving a moist trail right along her collarbone turns out to be his favourite.  
His tongue dips right into the soft spot above her sternum and she rises into his touch, her hands on his biceps, stroking every inch of skin she can reach.

Steve really has no thought out plan on how to go on from here, but he is not completely clueless. Kissing his way to her nipples, he gently sucks on them, not sure how much he can do without hurting her. If her blissful sighs are any inclination, he is doing fine.  
Slowly, his kisses trail lower, and when he spends more than a few moments dedicated to her sides, she hooks her fingers under his chin, shaking her head.  
“I’m ticklish,” she explains and Steve stares. She hadn’t even so much as tensed underneath him. Again he his reminded of just how much in control Natasha is over her own body. He cannot help but admire her for it.

With his newfound knowledge he takes to nipping at her hips instead, sliding down her body and pressing closer and closer against Bucky warm form and into his still caressing hands.  
“Nice view,” he comments as Steve kisses his way up from Natasha’s knees and across her inner thighs without any clear destination as of yet.  
“Lift your hips for me,” Bucky then continues and Steve obliges. Bucky’s hands leave Steve’s back and worry at his fly, opening his pants and sliding them down, even going so far as to take his underwear right with them. Steve’s breath catches and he becomes painfully aware of the fact that he is completely naked now, all his clothes strewn somewhere across the room.

He feels Bucky’s hands returning to his skin, this time stroking over his sides and again he can feel the light scratch of his stubble as Bucky kisses his way across Steve’s shoulder blades, stopping at random points to gently nip at his skin. Again, his goose bumps rise with joy when Bucky lays several kisses alongside Steve’s spine, darting out his tongue and licking across his ridges.

Steve moans and finally feels daring enough to just go for it, kiss Natasha’s moist folds. He can feel her gasp, arching her hips to his touch, wanting more contact, more friction. Just like him. He lets out a relieved breath, and enjoys the sensation of her always so guarded body writhing beneath him, giving in to the pleasure he can cause.  
“A bit more to the left and now… yes, right… there,” she rasps, guiding him with her words as well as one delicate hand in the back of his neck.  
Steve repays her helpfulness with experimental flicks of his tongue against her clitoris.

He can hear the slight chuckle coming from Bucky and is almost sad to feel him crawl to the other side of the bed. The sound of a drawer opening calms him and Steve can only guess what exactly Bucky is getting from the night stand.  
“You just keep going,” he comments and closes the drawer with a thud, crawling back to his former spot, laying placing condoms and lubricant within reach.

Steve finds that Natasha’s pure enjoyment is irresistible, enthusiastically kissing her, tasting her juices and sucking on her clitoris, careful not to hurt her. He kisses her inner folds, one hand supporting his weight and the other coming to rest on her lower belly, pressing down lightly. He enjoys coaxing moans and gasps out of her, watching her let go of her walls with utter fascination.  
Bucky is now behind him again, kneeling with his hips pressed against Steve’s his hands returning to his hips and then slipping further.

Steve moans aloud when Buck’s hand closes around his cock, stroking firmly and finally giving him the friction he so desperately needs.  
He sucks harder on Natasha’s skin, rocking his hips against Bucky’s hands, enjoying the kisses he lays on Steve’s back again. Bucky’s teeth are scraping over his skin and Steve is torn between pushing himself against Bucky or Natasha.  
He can feel Bucky’s hard cock pressing against the back of his thigh and the mental image makes him whimper. He delves his tongue into Natasha, her fingers tightening her grip on his hair and they both moan in unison. She holds him firmly in place, yet manages not to choke him, and Bucky’s hand moves faster, his grip tighter, the metal hand on his hip, growing hot from the constant skin contact.  
“He’s close,” Natasha states, her voice as coarse as Steve feels and suddenly the hand on his cock is gone and Steve whimpers, betrayal seeping through him. He cries out in frustration, rocking his hips against the bed sheets, desperate to get more.

A hard slap on his buttocks stops him from any further attempts at getting release and Steve yelps, feeling the red hot mark of Bucky’s hand, forever branding him.  
Instantly Bucky softly caresses the abused skin, stroking and kneading Steve’s ass with gentle hands, spreading his cheeks apart. Cold air reaches his anus and Steve’s face flashes hot at the thought of Bucky spreading him open, looking at him in the most intimate way.  
He is almost too flustered to notice the sound of a plastic cap being opened and decides to distract himself with alternating between pushing his tongue into Natasha and kissing every inch of skin around her pussy, except for the very place itself.  
Her nails are sharp, scratching over his back, but she moans, arching into his touches.

He feels a wet finger circling his entrance and Steve can feel his nervousness surging up again, choking him from within. He tries to ignore it and instead pushes back against Bucky, allowing him to slide his finger in.  
It’s uncomfortable, it hurts and yet Steve cannot help but moan into Natasha’s pussy.  
“Are you alright?” she rasps, clearly able to see what exactly Bucky is doing over his shoulders.  
Steve stops his ministrations on her clitoris, a thin trail of her juice mixed with his saliva connecting them.  
“Yes,” he says earnestly and Bucky takes the opportunity to slide his finger in to the hilt, pausing for Steve to catch his breath and adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion.  
As he slowly moves it around inside of him he lets a second finger join the first, stretching Steve around his digits, teasingly wriggling them inside of him.

Steve moans again, now continuing on Natasha, who looks just as blissfully needy as he feels. He presses his hand down on her belly again, his fingers accidentally fining her scar, but she doesn’t seem to mind. He strokes over it with his fingertips, coaxing a bubbly laugh out of her. He finds it strangely sexy.  
He has absolutely no idea whether Bucky has three or five fingers in him. He know that it hurts a lot less when they are actually moving, compared to them just being inside of him, completely still and stretching.

He lets out a disapproving moan when Bucky pulls his fingers out, leaving him aching and empty. He can feel the movement behind him, guessing that Bucky is wiping them off on the bed sheet. There is a ripping sound, and seeing that Bucky’s left hand is stroking over Steve’s buttocks, he guesses he used his mouth to help rip open a condom wrapper.  
“It’s so sexy when you do that,” Natasha chuckles, her fingers stroking Steve’s scalp absentmindedly.  
“That’s why I do it,” Bucky retorts and fiddles with the condom, sliding it onto his cock. There is the sound of the cap again and Steve guesses that Bucky is adding more lubrication.

Natasha’s hands are still in his hair, stroking him soothingly and then Bucky is against his entrance and he is being stretched.  
He is grateful for Natasha’s efforts to help him through the pain and Steve bucks his hips, urging Bucky to just move already.  
Bucky complies, thrusting gently into him, going a bit deeper each time. He reaches his arm and pushes a pillow underneath Steve’s hips between two thrusts, and the pain lessens and slowly transforms into pleasure. Steve still feels uncomfortably stretched. He cannot get himself to care.  
Licking and suckling on Natasha to the rhythm of Bucky’s thrusts, Steve buries his face deep inside her, his chin riding up her pussy.  
She comes when he lets out a rather loud whimpering sound, her hands clenching in his hair.  
Bucky comes inside of him not too long after, huffing and digging his fingers into Steve’s hips.  
“You two are impossible not to come to,” he justifies himself and slowly pulls out of him.

Steve is disappointed when Bucky unceremoniously slips the condom off and gets up to dispose of it in the trashcan.  
He scrambles to his knees, still hard and shame slowly rising to his cheeks.  
Natasha follows him, grabbing a Kleenex from the nightstand and wiping his mouth clean.  
“You don’t think we’d forget about you, do you?” she asks and climbs into his lap, kissing him.  
Steve moans into her mouth, his cock rubbing against her belly and he knows she can taste herself on him, making this all the more intimate.

The bed dips behind him and Steve feels Bucky crawling towards them again, opening up another condom and sliding it onto Steve, his hand lingering on his cock longer than necessary.  
Natasha grabs a hold of it and together they guide it between her thighs and into her.  
Steve moans as her hotness engulfs him, squeezing every last thought out of his head, her hips rocking against his.  
He tries to hold onto her, his hands roaming over her sweat damp body, pressing her close as her hard nipples tickle and tease his chest.  
Steve moans again, wrapped up in her heat and when Bucky leans over his shoulder, kissing Natasha with abandon, he throws his head back.  
Bucky’s hand is on his chin again, turning his head to kiss him with exactly the same passion.  
Out of the corners of his eyes Steve can see that Bucky’s hand found Natasha’s, both of them holding onto each other.  
Then Natasha moves her hips in exaggerated circles, coaxing a loud moan out of Steve as he comes, all three of their faces pressed together, Bucky and Natasha’s hot breathing in his ears.  
She moves two more times and Bucky’s free hand moves around Steve, massaging her breast.  
She comes around him, prolonging his own orgasm as she rhythmically clamps down on him.  
It’s hot and he is flushed, his head light, resting against her shoulder for support.  
She kisses his forehead, her chuckle bubbly.

“That was simply the best threesome I ever had,” she coos, lifting her hips and climbing off of him.  
When she sees him fumble awkwardly with his condom, she just takes it off for him, knotting it closed and throwing it into the trashcan across the room.  
“Show-off,” Bucky grumbles, but Natasha laughs it off.  
Steve feels the exhaustion creeping up on him. He smiles down at Natasha, who just lazily plops down onto her back with open arms, inviting the boys to use her as a pillow.  
Somehow there is shuffling and then a blanket, and Steve falls asleep in the crook of her shoulder, Bucky on her other side, Natasha’s fingers stroking through his sweat damp hair.

 

 

END

 

 

 

 

Post Credits Scene:

Tony stumbles into the kitchen way too early. DUM-E and Jarvis had joined forces, practically kicking him out of the workshop.  
He is greeted with the familiar sight of Clint, Spider Man, Thor and the Maximoffs sitting over a Stark pad, watching the security camera life stream.

“Romanoff and Barnes doing it again?” he asks the bunch as he pours himself some sweet, sweet coffee.

Bruce sits a bit farther off, nursing his own cup, seemingly not paying any attention. Tony knows he is secretly listening to the gossip, the pretentious bastard. Tony won’t be fooled though.

“Ha, I knew it!” Pietro exclaims loudly.

Tony cranes his neck, trying to get a good look of the screen.

“Jarvis, what is this travesty, put that up for everybody to see, I’m getting a stiff neck here.”  
“Of course, sir.”

Jarvis pulls lifts the footage, displaying it in the air for everybody to have a clear view. Even Bruce is watching now.  
Tony smirks when he sees Natasha leave Bucky’s room, her hair in disarray looking completely ravished and content. She waves at the camera and then flips them off with a grin.

She knows exactly that she’s being watched, seeing that everyone except her and Barnes are in the kitchen.  
She had done the same the last time Bruce had Betty over.  
Tony grins. Ah, the memories…

“Good morning pervs,” she greets them as she enters the kitchen, stealing Tony’s coffee and plopping down, joining them to watch the show.  
The door opens again and Barnes leaves, not even looking at the camera, heading to in the other direction, probably to hit the gym. He always does that after her got lucky, Tony observes.

“Jarvis, you can-” Tony starts and then freezes.

The door opens a third time and a very flushed and equally dishevelled Steve leaves the room, his walk suspiciously wobbly.

  
“No way!” Clint all but screeches and everyone turns to look at Natasha, who just continues to drink her coffee.


End file.
